The naked edge

17

Three shots made Cavanaugh flinch. From behind him. From the opposite end of the porch. From the kitchen was all he had time to think as his startle reflex engaged. Even the most seasoned operators, accustomed to bullets being fired near them, couldn't control that reflex. He grabbed Jamie and lunged sideways, seeking the only available cover: the lodge's wall. Simultaneously, he felt something snap past him and wallop onto the porch's floor, tearing up splinters.

Two shooters. One in the kitchen. One on the ridge.

He kept lunging, holding Jamie tightly, turning so his back led the way as they crashed through the screen that covered his office window. The window was raised. His head grazed past the wooden frame. He fell, holding Jamie, banging onto the floor.

"Cavanaugh!" Angelo yelled. Then William and Mrs. Patterson also shouted his name. He heard footsteps rushing toward the office.

But all he cared about was Jamie. "Are you all right?"

She didn't answer.

"Jamie!"

"I'm okay. Got the wind knocked out of me."

Cavanaugh rolled from under her, scanning her body, looking for blood.

"What happened?" she wanted to know.

Angelo and the others charged into the office. "Cavanaugh?"

He drew his pistol from under his shirt. "The kitchen? Who shot-"

"I did. Three bullets into the wall." Angelo's pistol was in his hand. "Men on the grounds. The phone line's been cut. I didn't know how else to warn you in time."

"The eastern slope. Sniper," Cavanaugh said.

"I didn't hear any shots from up there."

"He must be using a sound suppressor. William, I hope you know how to handle a gun."

"Not even in my worst nightmares."

"You're about to learn."